Freelancers: the mythical creatures who work in pajamas, make boat loads of money in two hour workdays and have so much free time that they’re basically always on vacation, right?

Wrong.

If you’ve ever wondered what freelancers really do all day or assumed they’re just chilling at home “between gigs." From unstable income to zero boundaries and clients who think exposure is currency, freelancing is equal parts freedom and chaos. If you have ever looked at a freelancer and thought, “Wow, they have so much free time!” or “Must be nice not having a real job,” allow me to introduce you to the real freelance experience. Yes, we can technically work from anywhere, but that mostly means we’re working from everywhere; including our desks, or the bed,  or at the dinner table, or during our vacation, and sometimes even in our dreams. Sure, we don’t have a boss in the traditional sense, but we do have clients. And unlike a single boss at a full-time job, freelancers get the privilege of juggling multiple bosses at once. And it is important to remember that each 'boss' comes with different demands, deadlines, and urgent last-minute revisions.

And let’s talk about that so called financial freedom. Some months, we might feel like kings, making six figures and treating ourselves to something nice (like…paying rent on time). Other months? We stare into the abyss of our empty bank account, wondering if exposure can truly pay the bills.

Whether you are a fellow freelancer nodding in pain-laughter or someone trying to understand why your freelance friend never replies to your quick messages during the day, here are the top things you need to know about the reality of freelancing life.
Ah, freelancing, the dream job where we wake up at noon, work for an hour in our pajamas, and then spend the rest of the day binge-watching shows while money magically appears in our accounts. At least, that is what a lot of people seem to think. Reality? A lot less glamorous.

So, before you assume your freelancer friend/family is just hanging out at home doing nothing or has endless time to grab lunch on a Tuesday, here are a few things you should know.

1. You’re Always Free, Right?

2. You Must Be Making a Lot, Right?

3. It Must Be Great to Not Have a Boss

4. Must Be Nice to Work in Your Pajamas All Day

5. Boundaries? What Boundaries?

6. You Can Just Say No to Bad Clients, Right?

7. Vacations Are a Lie

8. Despite Everything, We Actually Love It

If you have read this far and still think freelancers are just glorified couch potatoes living off passive income and good vibes… Congratulations! you have clearly been talking to our relatives.

Here’s the truth: freelancing is not some magical loophole in capitalism where people get rich while binge-watching Netflix in pajamas. It is unpredictable, unglamorous, and frequently exhausting. It demands strategy, self-discipline, resilience, and the occasional emotional breakdown over an unpaid invoice. We juggle deadlines, pitching to new clients, chasing the old ones for payments, and somehow still get labelled as the one ‘who does not have a real job’. After all is said and done, for reasons even we don’t fully understand, we love this chaotic little career path. Maybe it’s the freedom. Maybe it’s the caffeine. Maybe we’re just built different.

So the next time someone tells you they’re a freelancer, resist the urge to ask if they’re “still doing that little thing from home.” Instead, maybe offer them a coffee. They’ve probably been up since 6 AM working on three different projects while also being their own admin, marketing head, and IT support.

Freelancing isn’t a hobby. It’s a full-time job, and then some.

When Life Gives You Tangerines might sound like the title of a breezy, feel good romcom, but don’t be fooled. This drama is all about heart and soul, and everything in between. It is a gentle reminder that life rarely gives us what we expect. It is a little reminder that life hands us little moments that are bittersweet, messy, beautiful and it’s up to us to make something of them. Sometimes, what we make is a new beginning. Sometimes, it can lead us to peace. And sometimes, it’s a love you didn’t even consider but absolutely needed.

Now, before we go further, let me issue a very important warning:

At the heart of When Life Gives You Tangerines is Yang Gwan-Shik, played with remarkable nuance by Park Bo-gum. Gwan-Shik isn’t flashy, doesn’t deliver grand declarations, and rarely makes a scene. But in a world where love is often loud and performative, his quiet loyalty, emotional steadiness, and thoughtful gestures feel like a revolution. He listens more than he speaks. He notices. He remembers. He adapts. Watching Gwan-Shik love is like watching someone water a plant daily… small actions that eventually bloom into something undeniable. He is the kind of character that could easily come off as too perfect or little dull in the hands of a less capable actor, but Park Bo-gum brings a gentle gravitas that makes you believe every moment. He’s a soft place to land; not just for the woman he loves but for the audience too. Then there’s IU, effortlessly stepping into the role of a woman grappling with the weight of expectation, regret, and hope. She doesn’t need to cry in every scene to show you heartbreak. Sometimes, it’s in the way she looks at a closed door, or the way she hesitates before saying something she’s been holding in for years. Her character arc is one of self-forgiveness and quiet courage and IU’s performance brings grace to Oh Ae-Sun’s character.

One standout dynamic in the series is the relationship between Gwan-Shik and his daughter. It’s tender without being overly sentimental. He isn’t trying to be a “cool dad”, he is just trying to be a good one. His love sets the benchmark for the kind of partner he hopes she finds, without ever becoming overbearing.

The cast as a whole is uniformly excellent, with no jarring missteps. Every supporting role feels purposeful. Together, they build a world where quiet moments speak volumes, and restraint is a strength, not a flaw.
What makes this drama shine isn’t just its male lead, though he does carry a significant chunk of emotional weight. It’s the way the story trusts its audience to slow down. There’s no rush here. No overblown conflict or endless misunderstandings. Just quiet tension, earned resolutions, and characters that feel like people you know I your real life. The back-and-forth timeline is one of the drama’s greatest strengths. It doesn’t confuse or disrupt. Instead, it mirrors how people’s memory works… How we return to the past, not always in pain, but to make sense of the present. And every time the story loops back, it adds more meaning.


Hidden Love was one of my first Chinese drama experiences, and it is still a favorite of mine. Victor Ma played Sang Yan, the older brother of the female protagonist, and I remember telling my friend that I wanted to learn about Sang Yan’s story. This spin-off finally gives us his long-anticipated story—a light-hearted yet emotionally intense romance set amidst the wistfulness of what might have been.

The First Frost uses my favorite second-chance and childhood-crush tropes. Sang Yan’s chemistry with his love, Wen Yifan, is filled with tension, camaraderie, and undeniable chemistry, and each scene between the two is compelling. The romance in Hidden Love is uncomplicated, but The First Frost delves into self-discovery, timing, and the bittersweetness of growing up.

The story follows Sang Yan and his childhood friend, Wen Yifan, played by Zhang Ruonan. Their dynamic is always one of teasing and unexpressed feelings. It is a platonic connection that complicates when they fall out of touch, then meet again at a point where you least expect it. The tension between what could have been and what still might be keeps you watching, so when they finally reunite, it is all the sweeter. Unlike the first-love sweetness of Hidden Love, this series explores maturity, emotional barriers, and the challenge of confronting long-suppressed feelings. It’s about timing—too soon, almost lost, and when two people finally meet. With missed chances, tender moments, and fiery arguments, The First Frost is a realistic yet powerfully romantic story that will have you cheering on Sang Yan’s happiness, even when he claims he doesn’t need it.

At the center of The First Frost is Sang Yan, played by Bai Jingting, who brings to perfect life the witty and self-assured yet emotionally guarded character we first saw in Hidden Love. In the first series, he was the protective, sometimes exasperated older brother. Here, we get to see his own vulnerabilities, regrets, and unspoken desires. His journey is richly satisfying—from the lovestruck youth to the one left behind, and then to the one who gets his first love back. We get to know a wiser, emotionally complex Sang Yan, whose teasing conceals his own issues with love and timing. The drama picks up where the charming, quick-witted Sang Yan of Hidden Love left off, now living in adulthood. While he seemed carefree before, this story peels back his layers to expose the emotional depth behind his teasing and sarcasm.

For those who, like me, adored Victor Ma’s portrayal of Sang Yan in Hidden Love, it’s impossible not to miss him here. His naturalness and scene-stealing presence made him stand out. But Bai Jingting does a great job of carrying on the spirit of Sang Yan, delivering a more mature but still playful interpretation of the character we fell in love with. Opposite him, Zhang Ruonan delivers a beautiful performance, bringing quiet strength to the story. Her character has loved Sang Yan for years but had to leave him behind for heart-wrenching reasons. She undergoes her own journey—one of self-worth and moving on—making the two of them getting back together all the more fulfilling. Their chemistry is palpable, with lingering eye contact, banter, and emotional struggles that make the love story feel true and earned. It’s a romance founded on history, heartache, and ultimately, on healing.

The performances in The First Frost truly bring the story to life. Bai Jingting gets into the role of Sang Yan so naturally, both his charismatic, teasing side and his hidden emotional issues coming to the surface. He has you in hysterics with his sharp comebacks, yet he tugs on your heartstrings when his defenses begin to crumble. His interpretation relies so much on Sang Yan’s growth, regret, and emotional depth, so his journey to love is all the more poignant.

The direction is responsible for keeping this drama so gripping. The story is slow-building yet gripping, with emotion accumulating rather than resorting to forced dramatic confrontations. Nostalgic flashbacks, soft focus, and lingering close-ups create an intimate atmosphere, so that every second between the leads is all the more poignant. The cinematography is stunning in capturing the progression of their romance—from carefree memories of youth to the weight of pent-up emotion in adulthood.

And what is a drama without a good OST? The First Frost’s soundtrack is equally apt for its bittersweet, heartwarming mood. It may not have as iconic an OST as Hidden Love’s Forever Star or I Have Someone I Like, but the tracks here bring out the same feelings of wistfulness, love, and fate. The soft, lilting tunes contribute to the emotional beats of the narrative, so that you recall them long after the episode ends.

What is so compelling about this drama is the balance it strikes between nostalgia, humor, and emotional depth. We get to see Sang Yan’s gentler side, something that was just hinted at in Hidden Love, so his arc is all the more gratifying. Their dynamic is filled with years of pent-up feelings, so each moment is rich and full of significance.

For those who love slow-burn romance with a touch of angst and heartwarming moments, this drama is a treat. It is not better than Hidden Love to me, but it is still a beautifully narrated love story that lingers with you long after the final episode.

Happy Birthday to Min Yoongi, better known as Suga of BTS and Agust D.

This track, which serves as a pivotal moment in the Map of the Soul narrative, is heavily influenced by Carl Jung’s concept of the ‘shadow’—the repressed and often darker side of the self. Through its introspective lyrics, haunting production, and visually striking music video, Interlude: Shadow paints a visceral picture of the inner conflicts that come with fame. It also serves as an intersection between his two personas, blending the introspective vulnerability of Suga with the raw confrontation of Agust D.

The Shadow: A Concept by Carl Jung

Before delving into the song, let’s understand what Jung meant by the ‘shadow.’ Jung, a Swiss psychologist, described the shadow as the unconscious part of our psyche—comprising traits, fears, and desires we reject or suppress. Often, our shadow contains aspects of ourselves we may not want to confront, yet it inevitably influences our emotions and actions.

Jung’s concept of the shadow is part of a larger framework known as the Map of the Soul, which outlines the structure of the human psyche. This framework includes:

- Persona: The mask we wear to present ourselves to the world, shaped by societal expectations.
- Ego: The conscious mind, the ‘I’ we identify with.
- Shadow: The unconscious self, where repressed desires and fears reside.
- Anima/Animus: The inner feminine side of a man (anima) and the inner masculine side of a woman (animus), representing deeper emotional truths.
- Self: The ultimate goal of personal growth, where all aspects of the psyche—both conscious and unconscious—are integrated into a balanced whole.

For an artist like Suga, who has climbed to unimaginable heights, the shadow manifests as fears of losing himself in success, of reaching the top only to feel more isolated than before. Interlude: Shadow is an open dialogue with this unseen self, questioning the cost of his ambitions and the parts of himself he may have suppressed in his rise to fame.

The Lyrics

The song’s opening lines are deceptively simple: “I wanna be a rap star, I wanna be the top”. These words echo the unfiltered ambition of a young dreamer. But as the track unfolds, the tone shifts: “Don’t let me fly, now I’m scared. Don’t let me shine.”—a plea that reveals the anxiety accompanying his rise. The shadow speaks, acknowledging that with great success comes the fear of falling.

One of the most haunting lines in the song—“But my growing shadow swallows me and becomes a monster”—depicts how unchecked ambition and fame can consume a person. This mirrors Jung’s idea that the shadow, when left unacknowledged, can overtake the self and become overwhelming.

As the song progresses, Yoongi acknowledges the inevitable clash between his desires and fears: “The moment I faced myself brought the lowest / It so happens that I'm flying the highest.” This paradox reflects the tension between his public success and private struggles. Facing one’s shadow can be painful, yet it is necessary for growth.

The lyrics also address an internal debate, with the shadow challenging him: “All the things you wanted, you've got it all / So what's the problem? Just enjoy it / Or just let it go, no? Then run, or stop / Don't whine, just choose one or the other.” These words sound almost mocking, as if his own mind is questioning why he cannot simply be satisfied with his achievements.

Toward the end, the confrontation reaches its climax: “We are one body, sometimes we will clash / You can never break me off, this you must know.” This is the moment of reckoning—Yoongi acknowledges that he cannot escape his shadow. It is a part of him, inseparable from his identity. The final acceptance, “Yeah, yeah, can't break me off, whatever you do / Yeah, you'll be at ease if you admit it too”, suggests that true peace comes from embracing one’s shadow rather than fighting it.

This duality of yearning and dread is a recurring theme in Agust D’s discography. In The Last, he lays bare his struggles with mental health and fame, while Amygdala unearths painful memories. Here, in Interlude: Shadow, he personifies the push and pull between his public persona and inner fears.

Check out the full lyrics here.

The Music

The production of Interlude: Shadow mirrors the song’s lyrical battle. It begins with a slow, almost hypnotic melody, reminiscent of a confession. As the track progresses, the beat intensifies, growing chaotic, echoing the sense of spiraling out of control.

Unlike traditional hip-hop tracks, Interlude: Shadow weaves elements of rock and electronic distortions, adding an unsettling, almost suffocating atmosphere. This distortion reflects the turmoil of an artist losing grip on his sense of self.

This sonic chaos is part of a larger thematic trilogy within Map of the Soul: 7, where Persona (by RM) explores the external self, Shadow (by Suga) delves into inner fears, and Ego (by J-Hope) embraces self-acceptance. RM’s Persona is bright and bold, reflecting the masks we wear to interact with the world. J-Hope’s Ego, on the other hand, is celebratory and upbeat, symbolizing acceptance of all aspects of oneself. Shadow sits between them—a confrontation with the parts of ourselves we’d rather ignore, serving as the bridge between wearing a mask and fully embracing one’s true identity.

The contrast in sound across these three tracks highlights their thematic connection. While Persona is energetic and declarative, and Ego is vibrant and optimistic, Shadow is brooding and tumultuous. Together, they create a complete arc—one that reflects Jung’s psychological framework, guiding the listener through the journey of self-discovery.

The Music Video

Embracing the Shadow

Interlude: Shadow is more than just a song—it is a deeply introspective piece that lays bare the cost of ambition. Through its haunting lyrics, turbulent sound, and symbolic visuals, Suga brings Jung’s concept of the shadow to life, exposing the battle between the self we project and the fears we suppress. The song doesn’t offer easy answers because there are none. Instead, it presents the raw truth: the shadow is an inseparable part of who we are.

For Min Yoongi, this struggle is ongoing. As an artist who has climbed to staggering heights, he must constantly negotiate with his shadow, questioning whether success is worth the sacrifices it demands. Yet, through this confrontation, there is a glimmer of resolution. By acknowledging the shadow rather than resisting it, he takes a step toward self-acceptance. The final takeaway isn’t about conquering fears but understanding that they coexist with ambition—that light and darkness are two halves of the same whole.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson Interlude: Shadow offers: we do not need to defeat our shadow. We only need to recognize it, listen to it, and learn from it.

Somewhere along the way, silence became a problem to be solved. Sitting alone at a party? Someone must come to your rescue. Not participating in a group activity? Clearly, you need encouragement. Quietly enjoying your own space? Oh no, we can’t have that. Because in a world that glorifies constant interaction, stillness is mistaken for loneliness, and solitude is seen as a cry for help.

As an introvert, I’ve spent years dodging well-meaning but relentless attempts to make me more social, as if my natural state is something to be fixed. At social gatherings (the ones I can’t avoid, anyway), I’m perfectly happy sitting in a corner, observing, or simply existing without feeling the need to contribute to the collective noise. But that’s rarely an option. Someone always thinks they’re doing me a favor by dragging me into a conversation, a party game, or—worst of all—to the dance floor. Because in their mind, I can’t possibly be enjoying myself if I’m not talking, moving, or otherwise proving my engagement.

It’s exhausting. And frankly, it’s time for a perspective shift.

This blog post isn’t about how introverts can “come out of their shells.” It’s not another list of ways we can learn to navigate a world that never stops talking. We have enough of those already. No, this is for the extroverts—the ones who thrive on energy, who can’t stand silence, who equate stillness with boredom, and who feel the need to fill every moment with noise.

Let’s flip the script. What if, instead of pushing introverts to be louder, extroverts learned to be quieter? What if you discovered that peace exists beyond constant conversation? That silence doesn’t need to be awkward, and not everyone is desperate to be included?

This is your guide to embracing the lost art of silence and, more importantly, learning when to just let introverts be.

No, We’re Not Broken: Myths About Introverts

For some reason, introversion is often treated like an unfortunate condition—something that needs to be fixed, managed, or overcome.

“You should speak up more!”

“You just need to get out more...”
“You’d have more fun if you joined in!” 

“You just need to come out of your shell!”

These are the well-meaning but utterly exhausting phrases introverts hear all the time.

So, let’s set the record straight. Here are some of the most persistent myths about introverts—debunked, once and for all.

1. Introverts are just shy.

No, introversion and shyness are not the same thing. Shyness is about fear of social judgment, while introversion is about energy. An introvert can be completely comfortable speaking in front of a crowd and still want to go home afterward and sit in silence for three hours.

2. Introverts don’t like people.

We like people. We just don’t like all people, all the time, in all settings. There’s a difference. Introverts value deep, meaningful connections, but the idea of filling every silence with small talk is pure torture.

3. Introverts don’t have fun.

Just because we don’t express excitement the same way extroverts do doesn’t mean we’re not enjoying ourselves. We don’t need to scream, jump, or dance to confirm that we’re having a good time. Sometimes, the best kind of fun is sitting in a quiet café, reading a book, or having a one-on-one conversation that doesn’t involve yelling over loud music.

4. Introverts are bad at socializing.

Introverts can be great at socializing. They just do it differently. Instead of bouncing from one person to another, they prefer quality over quantity—fewer interactions, but deeper ones. Also, they don’t believe in talking just for the sake of talking. Silence is perfectly fine, and no, it’s not awkward.

5. Introverts need to ‘come out of their shell.’

This is probably the most frustrating myth of them all. There is no “shell.” This is our personality. An introvert sitting quietly in a group isn’t waiting to be “saved” from themselves. They’re just… fine. Imagine that.

6. Introverts don’t like attention.

Not necessarily true. Some introverts love being in the spotlight—on their own terms. Many actors, musicians, and public speakers are introverts. The difference is, they need time to recharge afterward, whereas extroverts might thrive on the attention and seek more of it.

7. Introverts can’t be friends with extroverts.

Introverts and extroverts can be great friends—as long as there’s mutual respect. The key is understanding that introverts don’t always want to hang out, and that’s not a sign of disinterest. Sometimes, silence is just our way of being present. Almost all of my close friends are extroverts - they understand that I'd rather just observe than participate.

8. Introverts are always quiet.

Oh, we can be very loud—when we actually have something to say. Give an introvert a topic they’re passionate about, put them with the right people, or just catch them in the right mood, and they’ll talk your ear off. The difference? We don’t feel the need to fill silence. If there’s nothing important to say, we’re perfectly happy just existing in the moment.

Now that we’ve cleared up some misconceptions, let’s move on to the real challenge—helping extroverts embrace quiet and resist the urge to fix what isn’t broken.

Silence Isn’t Awkward—You Just Don’t Know What to Do With It

Let’s talk about silence. That vast, terrifying void where no one is talking, no music is playing, and—heaven forbid—no one is performing social energy exchanges every five seconds.

For some people, silence is peaceful. For others, it’s an unbearable abyss that must be filled with noise, chatter, or the first random thought that pops into their head (“So, uh… crazy weather, huh?”). If you fall into the second category, I have news for you: silence is not the enemy. You’ve just never learned how to sit with it.

Think about it. When was the last time you sat with someone in comfortable silence? No checking your phone, no feeling the urge to fill the gap, no background noise—just existing in the same space without pressure. If that idea makes you itch, then congratulations, you’ve just found your next personal growth challenge.

The truth is... silence only feels awkward if you believe it should be. But it doesn’t have to be. It’s just another form of communication—one that introverts are fluent in. Sometimes, the best moments aren’t the ones crammed with endless words, but the ones where you can just be.

Now, if you’re wondering, “Okay, but what am I supposed to do with silence?”—don’t worry, we’re getting there. Up next: a few practical tips on how to embrace quiet, respect introverts’ space, and maybe, just maybe, discover the joys of shutting up every once in a while.

How To Be Quiet (Without Exploding):

So, you’ve made it this far. You now know that introverts aren’t secretly miserable in silence, and you’ve accepted that not every moment needs to be filled with words. Great progress! But what now? How do you actually do quiet? How do you resist the overwhelming urge to fill every silence, drag introverts into activities, or—let’s be honest—just keep talking?

Don’t worry. I got you. Here are some practical ways to embrace quiet and, in turn, become the kind of extrovert that introverts actually enjoy being around.

1. Learn to sit with silence.

I know, I know. Silence feels weird at first. But instead of rushing to fill it, try sitting with it. Let a conversation pause without scrambling for a follow-up question. This maybe a perfect time to 'reflect' internally. Trust me, it won’t kill you.

2. Stop assuming quiet = uncomfortable.

If an introvert is sitting alone, they’re not silently begging you to rescue them. If a conversation has a lull, it doesn’t mean the vibe is ruined. If you let go of the idea that silence is awkward, you’ll realize it’s actually… peaceful.

3. Don’t force social activities on introverts.

Look, we get it—you love a good party game, group activity, or spontaneous karaoke session. Good for you. But if an introvert is clearly not interested, let them be. Stop with the “Come on, just try it!” If they wanted to, they would.

4. Lower your volume.

This one is simple. Just… talk a little softer. Not every conversation requires maximum enthusiasm, vocal projection, and hand gestures that could knock over a drink. Sometimes, a calm, normal-toned conversation is enough.

5. Respect the “Irish Exit.”

You know that moment when an introvert just disappears from the party without saying goodbye? That’s called an Irish Exit. And no, it’s not rude—it’s survival. If they’ve had enough socializing for the day, respect it. No dramatic “Where are you going?!” Just let them slip away in peace.

6. Be mindful of personal space.

Some extroverts love physical touch—hugs, shoulder pats, leaning in close. Introverts? Not always. Before you invade an introvert’s bubble, read the room. If they stiffen up when you go in for a hug, maybe… don’t.

7. Give introverts time to warm up.

Introverts don’t always jump into conversations with the same energy as extroverts. Instead of bombarding them with questions or expecting instant engagement, let them ease into it. The more comfortable they feel, the more likely they are to actually want to interact.

8. Accept that “No” is a complete sentence.

If an introvert declines an invitation, don’t push. Don’t guilt-trip. Don’t launch into “But why not? It’ll be so much fun!” Just accept the answer and move on. They’ll appreciate you for it.

9. Text first. Always.

Before calling, or video calling, or just showing up, send a text. Give the introvert a chance to mentally prepare. Unannounced social interaction is a crime against introverts, punishable by days (or even months) of avoidance.

10. Try doing something quiet for a change.

Instead of planning yet another loud, high-energy gathering, try a low-key activity—reading in the same room, watching a movie without constant commentary, or just taking a quiet walk. You might be surprised how much you enjoy it.

At the end of the day, this isn’t about changing who you are. It’s just about recognizing that not everyone thrives in constant noise and interaction. Respecting introverts’ need for quiet isn’t just about making them comfortable—it’s also a chance for you to experience a different kind of peace.

So, take a deep breath. Embrace the silence. And maybe, just maybe, learn to enjoy the sound of nothing.

If you are into the K-Drama or Asian Drama scene, I think you have heard of this series already. It has the audience on tenterhooks ever since it dropped on Netflix. When the Phone Rings is a suspenseful series that keeps viewers on the edge of their seats with its mysterious plot line and characters that have depth. The series blends psychological thriller elements with a lot of family drama, though not without a few missteps in its narrative and execution.



The drama starts with an unexpected phone call that changes the lives of the characters, triggering a chain of events that lead them to uncover secrets, confront their pasts, and face their deepest fears. Chae Soo-bin as Hong Hee-joo is central to the unravelling of the mystery, delivering a captivating performance as a woman caught in a dangerous web of lies, conspiracy and their consequences. The premise initially intrigues the audience with the strong mysterious Baek Sa-eon and gentle and emotional Hong Hee-joo. 

However, while the show keeps you guessing, there are a few moments where the story feels convoluted, particularly in the later episodes, where plot twists may appear forced or less cohesive. Some unresolved threads left viewers wondering about the show’s intended message, making it harder to fully connect with the story by the end.

While the show starts strong, the plot eventually begins to stumble in certain areas. Several key moments appear too convenient or lack conviction, especially regarding character reactions. There are instances where Yoo Yeon-seok’s Baek Sa-eon seem surprisingly oblivious to what’s going on around him. Some of their decisions often feel out of place or unrealistic, making them appear too “dumb” to notice or understand what’s happening. This undermines the suspense and weakens the overall narrative.

The performances of the cast are undoubtedly one of the drama’s strongest points. Chae Soo-bin’s portrayal of Hong Hee-joo is gripping, capturing the internal struggles of her character with depth and subtlety. Yoo Yeon-seok as Baek Sa-eon delivers a nuanced performance, bringing complexity to his character’s journey of self-discovery and guilt. Heo Nam-Joon shines as Ji Sang-woo, offering moments of camaraderie and strength that resonate with viewers. Jang Gyu-ri as Na Yu-ri and Han Jae-Yi as Hong In-a both bring in some stability among all the volatile characters around them and with standout performances that add layers to the story. The chemistry between the cast, particularly between Chae Soo-bin and Yoo Yeon-seok, is palpable, making their complex relationship dynamic one of the most compelling aspects of the drama.

So, tell me, did you folks enjoy the show?